


Compromise

by twixtnightandmorn



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: F/F, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-14
Updated: 2012-08-14
Packaged: 2017-11-12 02:53:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/485860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twixtnightandmorn/pseuds/twixtnightandmorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One shot. Bree Hawke is done waiting for Anders to "do the deed", so Isabela talks her into going straight to the source of her problems: Justice! F!Hawke/Anders, F!Hawke/Justice. SMUT! (Although my bestie has informed me it's more of a lime than a lemon. Thanks, Chris, I love you too.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Compromise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AmandaKitswell](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=AmandaKitswell).



_**"Since when is Justice happy? Justice is righteous. Justice is hard." - Anders** _

 

 

                "You know what I think? I think we need to get Justice laid."

 

                Maker, teach me to keep my big, fat, _loud_ mouth shut. Technically this conversation isn’t my fault; I was talking to Anders earlier, and, well, maybe I was flirting. A little. Alright, so I over the top, out in the open, told him that I love him and that I want to be his. Well what was I supposed to do? I swear that man doesn’t understand subtlety. Of course, that just started him into his whole _I’ll hurt you, I’ll break your heart, stay away from me if you know what’s good for you_ routine. Void take it all, I’m a grown woman, well past the age of consent, and I think I’m more than capable of figuring out what’s good for me and not good for me. And, idiot that I am, I had to go rushing off to the Hanged Man, broken hearted (not to mention sexually frustrated), and after three mugs of ale and half a bottle of the rat-piss they call rum in here I spilled to Isabela. That was probably the worst idea I’ve ever had. “Bela, he’s a spirit. I don’t think there’s some Fade version of the Blooming Rose floating around somewhere. Not that I’ve ever seen, anyway.”

 

                The pirate looks over at me, grinning ear to ear, whiskey sloshing over the side of her cup as she makes a large, drunken gesture.  “Maybe if we can get the stick-in-the-mud to relax, he’ll let Anders out for a night or two. And then you’ll get to see if you can _fit_ the man in.” She cackles madly, and I just shake my head. This is crazy, there’s no way we’re going to get Justice to go see a whore.

 

                “The only time he gets all blue-and-glowy is when Anders gets really mad. I don’t think that’s conducive to a roll in the hay, Bela. He’d probably rip the poor girl into little, tiny pieces and then we’d have to go clean it up and I’ll _never_ get Anders in bed!”

 

                “What about getting him done in the Fade?”

 

                “Maker, Isabela! You _really_ want me dead, don’t you? Summoning a desire demon anywhere near Justice, not that I evenknow _how_ , would just be an excuse for him to come out and smite me! And then I’d just die a virgin and that defeats the whole purpose...”

 

                She tosses back another cup of whiskey, then smiles at me, one of her big, cheek to cheek grins that makes me automatically makes me think _oh, shit, I’m doomed_. “We don’t need a desire demon, Hawke; you’re a mage, after all. Just go into the Fade and do the deed yourself.”

 

                “You want me to…” my voice hits the register somewhere in between nails-on-a-slate and mouse-in-a-trap, my face flushing a bright crimson. “You’re not joking are you? You want me to drug Anders, send him into the Fade, and then _seduce a vengeance demon_?” Something has to be in the drinks, like hallucinogenic drugs, because there is no way she can be crazy enough to suggest it, or me to be crazy enough to consider it. But what if it convinces Justice to give up Anders for one night…Oh, Void, I _am_ considering it! “Maker, I hate you,” I mutter beneath my breath, grabbing the bottle of rum and downing what’s left of it in one go. “I’m going to need more of this. A _lot_ more.”

 

                “That,” says Isabela with another large smile, “is just as easily said as done. Another dose of liquid courage, coming right up.”

 

 

                Anders’ face when Isabela drags me into his Lowtown clinic, giggling like a mad fool and stinking of alcoholic fumes, is priceless. Not that I think him seeing me dead drunk is the reason his jaw drops open like that, I have a feeling is has something more to do with the fact that my cleavage is hanging out, my shirt having been torn in half somewhere along the way between the Hanged Man and here by party or parties unknown. And, will you look at that, they managed to take a knife to my skirt too, so now there’s a big rip that means nothing of my legs, and almost nothing of my rear, is left to the imagination. This isn’t playing fair, I know, but this is the last chance he gets before things get _really_ dirty.

 

                “Maker,” he exclaims, helping the pirate lay me down on one of the examination tables, his eyes lingering just the tiniest bit too long on my chest. Do not blush, Bree! You are injured, remember? “What did you get her into this time, Isabela?”

 

                “Why are you looking at me? I didn’t have anything to do with it! All I know is that Hawke came into the Hanged Man _crying_ about how _someone_ broke her heart, and well I just had to console the poor girl…”

 

                He fidgets, looking at me, then at the floor, then back at me. Yes, abomination-boy, we’re talking about you. Good thing you’re so damned sexy. I giggle again, then grab at my co-conspirator’s arm, or at least try to. Oh, wow, I’m more drunk than I thought. This is going to be fun. “Oooh, tell him about the… the… what was it again?”

 

“Aqua Magus, Hawke. She drank three bottles of that stuff on her own before starting a fight with some of the Red Iron. Meeran’s going to be hard pressed to replace all of that lot.”  
  


It takes all my strength not to laugh as the healer practically tears his hair out in frustration. “You gave her _three bottles_ of Aqua Magus? That has lyrium in it, you idiot! Are you trying to kill her? Please just tell me she didn’t use magic fighting them.”

 

“She didn’t use magic fighting them,” Isabela says in that sweet voice that means she’s lying her head off.  “Honestly, what did you expect Anders? Just take her to bed already and put her out of her misery before someone else does.”

 

Ooh, he can do that smoldering-sexy-kicked-puppy look even when grinding his teeth. Actually, make that _loudly_ grinding his teeth. “I’m trying to _protect_ her, Isabela. And I’m apparently the only one, since you seem to think getting an apostate drunk on potentially lethal levels of lyrium and then letting her throw fireballs in a public place where Templars might show up at any moment is helping. Maker, it’s going to take _hours_ to get all of this out of her system. How could you be so stupid?”

 

“Is... is a … Bela…” His hands are wandering over me, warm, but just healer’s hands, seeking out injuries, not trying to cop a feel or anything. Damn. Well, let the games begin then, lover boy.

 

“Yes, Hawke?”

 

Without warning I sit up, tossing a paralysis spell at him. The surprise on his face is so sweet I could eat it like candy, but the night is waning fast and we have a lot to do. “I think I’m done being protected. Bottle, if you please?” With a grin, she pulls one of the bottles out of my pack and uncorks it, forcing the lyrium between his lips and down his throat, then lays him down on the table beside me.

 

 “Tell Justice I’ll see him in the Fade, will you?” I coo, taking his frozen hand in mine before accepting another lyrium potion from my pirate friend. “Let’s see if he and I can reach an understanding.” Well, if worse comes to worst, it won’t be the first time I’ve had to leave the Fade to get away from an angry demon. Everything real gets fuzzy, well, _more_ fuzzy, and the next thing I know, the clinic is gone.

  
Like I asked, Justice is waiting in a portion Fade that looks, interestingly enough, like my bedroom in the house I lived in back in Lothering, and, like I suspected, he is angry. No, let’s skip past angry and head down the path a few more miles: he is bloody _pissed_. **“How dare you do such a thing, mage?”**

 

                “Easy,” I reply, leaning against the wall near the head of the bed, crossing my arms over my chest. Maker, I’m even dressed like I would have been in Lothering, all innocent country farm girl in a long dress with fall flowers braided in my hair. Alright, whoever or whatever designed this place has a sick and twisted sense of humor; they must be Isabela’s spirit counterpart. “I’m here to offer you a deal, Justice.”

 

                **“Do you think I am a demon that I will accept some human’s bargain?”**

 

                Yeah, he’s pissed alright. Talk fast, Hawke, or he’s going to kill you in the Fade and then you have to explain all this to Anders, then _he_ can kill you in the real world and you’ll still die a virgin. “No, but I do think you’re intelligent, and all intelligent beings are naturally curious. And I also think that if you really do want to help Anders, to help all mages, then you better understand what you’re helping to fight for.”

 

                Well, at least that makes him pause for a second, tilting his head to look at me like the spirit’s still trying to decide whether or not just to smite me and get it over with. **“What makes you think you know what we fight for?”**

 

                “I _listen_ , Justice. I know what bothers him the most is the fact that, as mages, we’re not allowed the simple right of loving by choice, because the Templars enjoy controlling us too much, so we live our lives in fear. Well, Anders may not fear the Templars guarding him in the tower any more, but he’s still not free, not as long as he can’t love who he wants.” Take a deep breath, blow it out. Justice seems to be considering it, thinking about whether I’m absolutely crazy or not. Who am I kidding, of course I’m crazy. I drugged an abomination to drag his passenger into the Fade just so I can get some. Yeah, no one better accuse me of being sane ever again.

 

                **“What it is you offer?”** You know, you can spout all you want about not being a demon, but right now you sound like one. Just saying.

 

                “A trade. I show you part of what it is to be human, to love. In exchange, you let Anders alone for a bit, let him have enough freedom to decide _on his own_ , without any help or hindrance from you, if he wants to love me.”

 

                **“He has already decided this.”**

 

                I snort, not very ladylike, I know, but it’s the blighted _Fade_ , so who cares? “No he hasn’t, he’s avoided making a decision. Saying ‘stay away for your own good’ while still spending all his time around me is neither saying yes or no; I want him to pick one, he can’t have it both ways.” Alright, I lie; I want him to say yes, but still, Anders’ choice.

 

                Now Justice looks… confused, for lack of a better term. Great, I confused a spirit! Good one, Bree, let’s try doing that the next time I come up against a Pride Demon! Maybe they’ll just kill themselves instead of fighting me; that would be nice. **“Spirits do not commit… carnal acts. I am not certain how we would accomplish this.”**

 

                Maker, why do I sound like a mouse-in-a-trap when I’m talking again? “I’ve never… uh… done _that_ either, Justice. But you’ve got Anders’ memories, and he has, so I guess you let him tell you what to do, and we’ll just… um… experiment.” Blankness falls like a curtain over the blue-and-glowy-Anders-on-a-lyrium-high-like-I’ve-never-had-but-really-want face, and for a moment he seems to be processing my comment, or looking for another reason to smite me, not that he needs one. Isabela, if I make it back across the Veil you are _so_ _dead_ for ever suggesting this…

 

                **“Agreed.”** Wait, did he just say yes? I think he just said yes. Alright then, how are we going to… um, where did my clothes go? And his clothes are… oh. _Wow_. Never mind, I’m just going to stand here and enjoy the view. **“Anders’ memories suggest that this state is… more pleasant for such acts.”** Uh-huh, yeah. _Wow_. _Please_ tell me he looks that good without clothes out of the Fade. Bela, you whore, I’m going to gut you for getting to see this first.So, we’re both standing around naked in this Fade-version of my teenage bedroom, now what? Do I get on the bed, do I touch him, or does he touch me? Tell me what to do here, Justice, because you’re the one that Anders is giving insight, otherwise we’re both going to be standing around like the pair of nervous virgins we are until those lyrium potions wear off…

 

                Two long strides and the spirit has me pinned against his chest, lips crackling with energy as his mouth seeks mine, kissing me harder than I’ve ever been kissed in my life, thrusting his tongue into my mouth, stroking mine. Andraste’s flaming heart, Anders is _definitely_ showing him what to do. Pulling our mouths apart and ignoring my groan of protest, his lips trace down the hollow of my throat, nipping and sucking and the skin, leaving first livid red teeth marks, then dark blue bruises. Weakness causes my knees to buckle, and the spirit’s arms circle my hips even tighter to hold me up; gladly I clutch at this support as he tastes his way down my neck, across the ridge of clavicle, to the fullest part of my aching and ready breasts. The noises ripping from my throat are indescribable, loud and primal. Justice replies with a noise of his own, something low and decidedly demon-like as he picks me up and throws me on to the bed, then covers my body with his own.

 

                This is the Fade, nothing is real. This is the Fade, nothing is real. This is the Fade, nothing is…“ _Oh!_ ”But _nothing_ feels this good, not swimming in the ocean on a summer day, or a hot bath scented with jasmine on a winter one, or lyrium rushing magic back into my veins when I’ve over-cast myself. I think the spirit passenger of the man I’ve fallen in love with is enjoying the feeling as well, at least based on the way he keeps making those low demon noises as he moves, mouth and hands finding and marking every inch of my skin that they can. Harder, faster, deeper, I don’t want this to stop, ever; do I really have to wake up and go back to the real world, just to be ignored and pushed away for ‘my own good’? I think I finally understand why people make deals with desire demons.

 

                Around us, the Fade starts to shimmer more than usual, the fog thinning out then growing thicker as Justice’s movements become more erratic, his heavy, hot hands moving to the place where we are joined and… Arching my back off the now-invisible bed I cry out Anders’ name, though it’s almost immediately drowned out by a powerful roar of victory. I still hope he can hear me, somehow, because I know this is his knowledge that is making me tremble, his body, even if Justice has taken it over from the both of us; I want Anders to be certain that I am doing this for him. Maker… Maker… that was… oh… oh… oh…Nibbling and tasting his way back up my neck, the spirit stops beside my ear, teeth scraping against the sensitive skin as the hot flesh of his chest pressing my breasts painfully flat. **“Thank you for this, knowledge. It has been most… satisfying.”** Well, if that’s the demon version of saying you’re good in bed, so are you, Justice.

 

 

                “Hawke? Hawke!” Someone is shaking me, trying to get me to wake up, but it’s too far to come back. I don’t want to come back and face Anders, face what I’ve done for him and, alright, for me too. Actions are much easier to take when you’re too drunk to think about the consequences.  “Did Justice do something to her in the Fade?”

 

                “She’ll be fine, Isabela. Dealing with spirits can be… exhausting.” Nice dodge, Anders; Justice did plenty, thanks _._ I miss that _wonderful_ floaty-mixed-pain-and-pleasure feeling, but I’ll settle for being able to open my eyes right now. “Go back to the Hanged Man and get some sleep. I’ll watch over Hawke until she’s well enough to head back home.”

 

                Isabela’s shuffling tread makes its way across the floor, pausing beside the door to Darktown as her voice raises in admonition to the healer. “It was my idea, you know. Poor, silly girl is so blind with love that she’ll do anything for you, except be tossed back and forth like a rag doll anymore.”

 

                “I know. It’s time to make a decision.”

 

                “Good. Oh and Anders,” she has that sugary sweet tone in her voice again, the one that lets me know she’s about to gut someone and use their intestines as rope. “You break her heart, and I’ll let Fenris at you like he’s wanted to do since the very beginning.” Hinges groan as she opens the door, and again when she slams it closed. Ow, that was my head you pirate whore!

 

                Slowly, he rests hand on my forehead, then slides the palm down to cup my cheek gently. “I know you’re awake, Hawke.” Well, that makes two of us. Now if I could open my eyes or talk, things would be good. Maybe a little help here? “That was insanity, woman, I hope you know that.” Noted, now heal the mage who just had sex with your demon half. Please? “I’m tempted to leave you like this for a bit, the silence from your wicked tongue is a bit refreshing. But, well…” Magic pulses into my face from his fingers, funneling energy into my body, giving me strength enough to open my eyes and mouth. Andraste’s ass, but that smile on his face makes me want to melt. What is he doing? Why is he bending down like that? _Oooh_. “I think I might have some other use for that mouth of yours.” His lips taste like the lyrium potion, but thankfully it’s not strong enough to send me back into the Fade. _This_ is what I want, right here, right now.

 

                “What am I going to do with you?” he sighs across my lips after ending the kiss, still leaning down to press his forehead to mine.

 

                “Love me?” I reply, giving him the brightest smile I can manage, considering most of my body is still paralyzed from the trip into the Fade.

 

                Dark eyebrows practically disappear into his blonde hair. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough of that today?”

 

                “Nope. While that was… _fantastic_ … my physical body hasn’t had such luck. Besides, I did it all for you.” Suddenly, a thought hits me, and I look down at my nearly bare chest and arms, then swear loud enough that I’m sure they heard me on the other side of Kirkwall. “Dammit, no marks! Did you have to heal the marks?”

 

                “What marks? You didn’t have any marks…” his eyes defocus for a moment, like he is remembering something, then he stares down at me with horror on his face. “You wanted to keep _Justice’s bite marks_?”

 

                “Well, yeah. Besides them being badges of honor - really, how many people do you know that have done a spirit in the Fade? - I thought it would be nice because you, could, you know, see that I love all of you. Even the parts you’re not proud of.” Quit blushing Hawke! Andraste’s knickerweasels, he’s seen the whole thing, after all, and he must have heard our conversation. Why are you looking at me like that, Anders? What did I do this time?

 

                “Can you move anything other than that smart mouth of yours?” For a minute I focus on the various muscles on my body, trying to get them to do something, anything, but all I manage to do is blink a few times and wiggle one finger slightly. “No? Good.” Without warning he’s on top of me on the table, resting his whole weight on my body the way Justice did at the end, hands working on the shredded remains of clothes I’m still wearing as he kisses me with all the violence of years of suppressed lust. Something hard is poking me in my thigh… is that… oh, yes it is. I was wrong; he looks even better naked in the real world than he did in the Fade. “Next time,” he hisses beside my ear as he positions my thighs around his hips and angles himself towards my core. “I get the first go. Justice will have to wait his turn.” Maker, just keep biting me like that, and - _“OH! ANDERS!”_ \- I’ll agree to anything you want. “You’re mine, beloved. _Mine_.”

 

 

                I know I have to be sleeping later, because the last thing I remember is my new lover brushing the sweat-soaked hair out of my face - smiling as he looks down at the vivid-red splotches on my skin that say _I Belong to Anders the Apostate, Do Not Touch_ \- then giving me a gentle, loving kiss on the lips before holding my still mostly paralyzed body against him on the hard table. But now I’m moving fine, walking back through the door into my room in Lothering, where, hey guess what, Ser blue-and-glowy-watch-me smite-you is waiting. “Hey now,” I exclaim, spreading my palms in protest. “We had a deal! Anders made his decision!”

 

                **“Anders made his decision,”** the spirit agrees, and suddenly my body feels very light. Wow, Justice is getting really good at making Fade clothing disappear into thin air. **“He has his turn, and I have mine.”** Oh, well, if you want to put it that way…

 

Ooh, I love it when you go all demon on me!

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Standard "I don't own anything" disclaimer. I so blame AmandaKitswell for this story. I swear she breeds the plot bunnies and then sends them to my house to torture me until I write. (Just remember, Amanda: Rotting. Corpse. Face.) Please R&R, tell me what you think of Justice finally getting some!


End file.
